


Let the Punishment Fit the Crime

by QuagmireMarch



Series: The Care and Taming of a Wild Russian Pakhan [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Badass Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Mafia AU, Sexual Situations, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27483205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuagmireMarch/pseuds/QuagmireMarch
Summary: Victor has disappointed Yuuri. Now he gets to pay the price.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: The Care and Taming of a Wild Russian Pakhan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987039
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	Let the Punishment Fit the Crime

It’d taken three days of Yuuri standing _in the open right in front of their favorite bar_ for the idiotic thugs to notice. Fucking mercenaries. God, he hated dealing with amateurs. But, the alternatives—letting himself get caught by professionals or members of the crime families—well, one hurt his pride and the other might have given Victor the impression he’d actually succeeded with his little bounty.

And Yuuri couldn’t have that. His beautiful boy had taken far, far too long to make progress, and he had a well-earned punishment coming his way.

So, Yuuri let the sweaty men in the dirty bandannas zip tie his hands and do their pathetically inept search for weapons. The whole time they crowed about the big payout headed their way, shoving and mocking and acting like they’d actually accomplished something.

  
Yuuri considered coming back and killing them all when he finished with Victor. It’d be doing anyone stupid enough to hire them a favor. Also, a complete waste of his time. They’d get themselves dead all on their own. And in the meantime, they were a convenient means to his ends.

The trip to the hotel was uneventful. The idiot thugs marched him right into the lobby, bonds open for anyone to view. The tall blond—Chris Giacometti, if Yuuri remembered correctly—winced at that and hurried them into a beautifully appointed penthouse sitting room. All warm wood and modern touches, the odd dichotomy suited Victor perfectly.  
  
And seeing Victor’s face when the mercs dragged Yuuri in made listening to all their ridiculous posturing worth it. Victor looked at Yuuri’s ‘captors’ like someone had spilled mud on his carpet then insulted his honor.

The thugs apparently didn’t notice or care, the ringleader—a blonde brute with more missing teeth than personality—started talking as soon as Chris walked out and shut the door behind him. “We got your guy.” Idiot ringleader shoved Yuuri towards Victor. “We want our money.”

Yuuri couldn’t help it. He laughed as he met Victor’s lovely ice-blue eyes, already feeling heat build in his gut. “Really, Victor? Was using the phone too difficult for you?”

Victor grabbed Yuuri’s chin, fingers tight and bruising. Something else to punish him for later. “You didn’t give me your number.”

Yeah, like he’d ever make it that easy. Yuuri let out a dismissive snort. “Your minions found me once. It’s not my fault if you’re not up to the challenge.” Time to get let his beautiful boy know just what kind of trouble he’d signed up for. Yuuri licked his lips and locked eyes with his prey. “You know there’s a price for disappointing me, Victor.”

Yuuri’s blood pounded harder, a wicked leer barely restrained, as the man before him shuddered. He very much looked forward to seeing what other reactions he could get as he took him apart. Very, very thoroughly.

And the beautiful boy seemed just as eager, his voice a husky purr. “You’re hardly in a position to be making threats.”

“Oh, Victor,” Yuuri stopped hiding his smirk as he moved forward, the space between them disappearing in a split second, to nip at Victor’s bottom lip, “it wasn’t a threat, my pretty boy.”

The stupid mercs, long forgotten as irrelevant, decided to sign their death warrants by yanking Yuuri away from his prize. Irritated at the interruption, Yuuri twisted his wrist, the knife hidden in a holster there springing forward. He dispatched the nuisances quickly, only pausing enough to keep the blood off his clothes. Then he returned his attention where it belonged. To Victor. “I hate distractions.” Blood dripped from the tip of his knife, and Yuuri yanked Victor forward by his tie, using it to wipe the blade before meeting those wonderful blue eyes again. “Don’t you?”

Victor didn’t look away. In fact, he leaned closer, his warm breath ghosting over Yuuri’s lips. “You let them catch you.”

“You were taking too long.” Yuuri pulled the tie hard, jerking Victor’s mouth to his in a bruising kiss, loving the soft whimper it elicited, the way Victor melted into him and wrapped his arms tight around Yuuri’s back.

But, nice as it felt, Yuuri still owed his pretty Victor a punishment, so he stepped away, careful as he let his blade dance, opening the shallowest cut on his pretty boy’s cheek. The red line stood out in striking contrast to delicate, pale skin. “No. You’ve been a very bad boy, Victor. You don’t get to touch. Not until you’ve been properly punished.”

Yuuri watched as Victor touched the wound, eyes aflame with conflicting emotions. Anger, pride. Desire. Watched as the last won out. Something Yuuri hadn’t even realized had coiled tight in his chest loosened. He’d read the Russian man right, then.

Victor’s eyes dropped, gaze smoldering even as he played with submission. “What, what do you want me to do?”

Yuuri drank the man in, so strong and deadly, here submitting for him. To him. It left Yuuri’s skin ablaze and his body hungry. And it clearly did something for Victor, too, since the man trembled, his stance faltering.

“You’re looking a little unsteady there, pet.” Yuuri caught him arm around his waist. It was his job to bring Victor to his knees, and he wanted to play an active part in it. Which is why he took the man’s legs out from under him, guiding him to his knees on the floor. He expected Victor to argue.

Instead, Victor looked up, so close Yuuri felt his breath against his erection, his eyes liquid and _pleading_. It took everything Yuuri had in him not to take the man right there. Instead, he ran a hand through the softest hair he’d ever felt and tugged hard, forcing the man’s head back. “I haven’t heard an apology yet, Victor.”

The gorgeous man _moaned._ “Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Oh, god. Okay, he could do this. Yuuri was a master of self-control. Even if he felt his grip in Victor’s hair tighten as he fought hard to stay focused. “Sorry what?”

“Sir. Sorry, sir. Master. I’m sorry, Master.”

The word hit like lightning, igniting Yuuri in a way nothing ever had. He’d wanted this, to control Victor, of course. But Victor had given him more than control. He’d offered him _ownership_. Yuuri wasn’t nearly foolish enough to turn that kind of gift down. “Good boy.” Yuuri released Victor’s hair. “Well, aren’t you going to do something to make it up to me while you’re down there?”

Victor went at his punishment with a vengeance, and Yuuri enjoyed every second, already eagerly planning how he’d stake his claim next.

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful Solnyshko had done some amazing fan art for my mafia world. This is her interpretation of Yuuri, and it is PERFECT. https://twitter.com/JamAnna77/status/1321491159282290691/photo/1


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